


The Pillar and the Stones

by lilgulie5



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Ball cupping, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Incest, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-28 00:45:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16230704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilgulie5/pseuds/lilgulie5
Summary: Set between 7x06 and 7x07. Daenerys returns to Jon's cabin later in the evening after he bent the knee and pledged his allegiance to her on their journey from Eastwatch to Dragonstone.





	The Pillar and the Stones

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NorthernLights37](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NorthernLights37/gifts), [CallMeDeWitt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallMeDeWitt/gifts), [LustOnMyFingers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LustOnMyFingers/gifts).



> This fic came about because of...Tumblr. Weeks ago I made a post pondering what Dany might have been doing while she waited at Jon's bedside for him to wake up. I suggested that she might have helped apply ointment to his injuries and NorthernLights37 more or less said that she assumed Dany was gently cupping Jon's balls. And thus, a fic was born. 
> 
> This is dedicated to NorthernLights 37, CallMeDeWitt, and LustOnMyFingers.

Daenerys glanced back and forth down the ship’s passageway as the wooden planks creaked beneath her feet before gently opening the door and stepping into Jon’s cabin. Only the slightest amount of pale moonlight filtered through the windows, mingling with the glow from her candle to cast aside the darkness as she moved towards his bedside. She set the taper and the jar she brought along with her on the side table next to a tray of food that she had sent to him earlier that evening. Rest was important for him, but if he was to regain his strength, Jon would need to eat as well. Upon investigating the tray, Dany found the bowl of broth empty and the small loaf of bread half-eaten.

_Good_ , she thought, easing onto the edge of the bed. She had spent most of her waking hours since they brought him aboard the ship by his side, only allowing herself to be pulled away when sleep was necessary. Brushing her fingertips across his knuckles on top of the furs, she tried to remember how it felt when he held her hand in his. She had been surprised how warm, how assuring it had been. Jon had nearly died, by all accounts _should_ have died, and yet he had been the one to comfort her and to give her strength in the wake of Viserion’s death.

_How about my Queen_ , he had said, his voice low and gravelly. _They’ll come to see you for what you are._

_And what am I?_ she wondered. He had called her his Queen, but there was more simmering beneath the surface in his grey eyes. Perhaps he would have said more had she not turned tail and left him, but she had not expected the scene that transpired between them. Jon had caught her wholly unaware and unprepared to deal with the feelings she had tried in vain to dispel from her mind.  

_There’s no time for that_ , she told herself as she reached for the jar on the bedside table. When he took her hand in his earlier, Dany noticed how dry and cracked his knuckles were, no doubt an effect of being plunged into the frozen lake and then riding through the cold back towards Eastwatch. His clothing and gloves had frozen to parts of his body and when Davos and the other men had removed them, they had torn off the very top layer of his skin in some places.

She had asked Ser Davos about his scars. There were too many for her to count without staring. _Too many to survive_ , she thought. Davos had shifted uncomfortably, mentioning something about a mutiny and told her that he felt the story was something Jon needed to tell.

Dany opened the jar and dipped a finger inside. There had been no Maester on board, but there was a chest of supplies to treat different ailments. Although she had little knowledge about medicinal arts, Dany knew enough to find a jar of ointment that would hopefully soothe Jon’s chapped skin. She dipped two fingers into the jar, swiping up some of the aromatic ointment and smoothing it over Jon’s knuckles.

She waited for him to stir, to wake, but when he did not, she continued her actions on his other hand and on his shoulders. The most hideous of his scars peeked out above the furs. Dany had only caught a brief glimpse of the rest when he had been stripped of his half-frozen clothing. She reached for the top of the fur and pulled it down slowly, her breath catching in the back of her throat at the sight of the scar again. It was right over his heart and though it was healed, it was still a deep crimson color. Pulling the furs down further, she continued to apply the ointment to the slightly raw areas of his chest and torso, anything that looked like it might benefit from the extra care. After all, Drogo had died from a small wound that was improperly treated, a result of her own folly. Although Jon’s nicks and chapped skin was not as severe, Dany would not take any chances. She counted the scars as she worked. _Seven_. Someone had stabbed him seven times and he had survived.

The last scar was below his navel and before she could stop herself, Dany’s fingers traced over it. She inched the furs down further, past the trail of dark hair that led from his navel to his soft cock. She was no green maid, she had been twice married and had taken a lover, yet she still felt a blush creep up her neck and onto her cheeks.

_Jon Snow_ , she thought, biting her bottom lip. _Is this what you’ve been hiding under that leather armor and furs?_  

Dany knew she should have pulled the furs back up and tucked them in around him. She should have taken her jar of ointment and candle and retreated to her own cabin. She knew he needed to rest and to heal. She knew all of those things, but she pushed all of then from her mind when she reached out and took his cock into her hand, the residual ointment on her fingers smearing over his shaft as she stroked him slowly. A grin played upon her lips at the way he came to life in her hand, growing harder with each stroke.

Jon was certainly not the largest man she had seen, but there was something pleasing about the shape of it. Perhaps she needed to reassess her comment to Tyrion. Perhaps Jon Snow was not too little for her after.

_Perhaps just the right size,_ she mused, swiping her thumb over the tip and spread the precum that had gathered there over the head of his cock. Stroking him from root to tip with a practiced twist of her wrist, Dany glanced up to ensure that Jon was still sleeping before reaching down with her free hand and gently cupping his balls.

_The pillar_ _and _ _the stones_ , she remembered, taking in the weight of them. She shifted them in her hand, tilting it from side to side before applying a gentle pressure. His cock twitched in response and she felt herself smirk with satisfaction at that.

“Daenerys?” she heard Jon mutter groggily, halting the movement of her hand. “Am I dreamin’?”

She was frozen in motion, unable to move a muscle as she looked down at him. He had been asleep moments ago and now his dark, grey eyes were on her, glancing between her face and her hands still wrapped around his cock and cradling his balls. She felt like a child who had just been caught doing something she was not supposed to be doing, but she was not a child. She had not been one for a very long time and she wanted this and, judging by their encounter earlier that day, she thought he might want it, too.

“Does it feel like a dream?” she countered when she found her voice.

He shook his head. “No. Feels better than my dreams.”

_He’s dreamt of me before?_

Jon shifted his weight, pushing his hips off the bed and falling back down with a wince.

“Ah, damn,” he cursed as he inhaled sharply.

“What?” Dany asked. “Did I...hurt you?”

“No,” Jon almost laughed. “My ribs and chest.”

She surveyed his chest again, marred not only with his mutiny scars, but also blue and purplish bruises.

“You shouldn’t move then, You need to heal.”

“If I can’t move, then you need to. Unless you plan on torturing me, that is.”

“No,” she replied with a grin as she stroked him again. “You’re not my prisoner, remember?”

“Aye, my Queen.”

“Dany.”

“Dany? But I thought-.”

“I’ve changed my mind. I like the way it sounds when _you_ say it.”

“Alright. _Dany_ then.”

“Stop talking, Jon Snow. Lie back and allow me to do this for you.”

She watched as he nodded and rested his head against the pillows, his shoulders relaxing once more as she resumed her ministrations. Years ago, Doreah had taught her many ways to please a man, with her hands, with her mouth, with her body and on more than one occasion she had imagined what it would be like to be with Jon, but she had never expected this.

His cock throbbed in her hand and as she continued to stroke it she could hear little sounds coming from his lips. When she teased his balls once again, Jon closed his eyes as one of his hands gripped the furs and another found the fabric of her skirt, bunching it in his fist. She began to pump him more urgently as his breaths grew ragged and more uneven under her touch.

“Dany, wait,” he grunted, trying to replace her hand with his own as he felt his balls begin to tighten in the familiar, telltale way they did just before he would come. “If you don’t stop I’m going to-.”

She nudged his hand away and leaned forward to cover his mouth with her own, swallowing his words and letting him know that she had started this and _she_ would finish it. He moaned against her lips, breaking their kiss as he writhed in a pleasure-filled pain as he began to come, his seed spilling in ribbons over her hand and across his abdomen.

“Dany, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to...I tried to tell you…” he panted as she milked every last drop from him before reaching over to the table and finding a small folded cloth. She had used it earlier, dipped in warm scented water to wipe across his brow while she waited for him to wake.

Dany shook her head as she wiped his seed from her hand and his stomach. She tossed the rag back onto the bedside table and pulled the furs back over his body.

“Didn’t mean to what?” she smiled. “I’ve never known a man to apologize afterwards, Jon. I assure you, I knew what I was getting myself into when I pushed your hand away.”

He returned her smile and nodded. Dany could tell it was a struggle for him to keep his eyes open now that he was sated and the room was warm and dark around him. He needed sleep. They would be back at Dragonstone within a few days and he would need all of his strength for what lay ahead of them in King’s Landing.

“I should...go,” she whispered, bending to brush her lips across his forehead.

“Or you could stay,” Jon replied, covering her hand with his own.

“Or I could stay.”


End file.
